


Different

by frozenpapers



Category: Frozen (2013), Hanna - Fandom, HansxAnna
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 22:29:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2042682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenpapers/pseuds/frozenpapers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Hans x Anna; one-shot]<br/>She shouldn't feel jealous, shouldn't feel proprietary. The man was never hers to begin with. But why does she feel like she has been robbed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Different

The gaiety had ended moments ago when the queen and king had told every citizen that they both needed rest, but it didn’t mean that the light in their eyes had died down as well when the doors to the castle were closed. The beatitude in their smiles was almost  _epidemic_ , but not epidemic enough since the princess regnant had found herself deep in the dark corridors, a frown pasted on her features, her brows drawn together, shoulders hunched, and steps counted. Slowly, she passed by the closed doors, her hands clasped together at her back, reflecting her  _regal_  sister. She didn’t want to admit how much she  _loathed_  her sister, for she didn’t want to crowd her heart with such an emotion when she had truly convinced herself that she loved this  _monster_ unconditionally no matter what the circumstances. But of course such an emotion couldn’t be hidden as such, and she’s now at a loss, knowing that she was pulling at her hair – metaphorically speaking – unable to decide what to  _feel_. She hadn’t felt this restless and – she scoffed – she was paying the price for it, with the bags stating to form under her big blue eyes and the lines on her creased forehead. She knew for herself that she was  _overreacting,_  that the man her sister was currently bound with – by the Holy Sacrament, vows, and body – was never hers to begin with. But if they were talking about firsts,  _she_  was the first to have him entwined with her desperate arms, the first woman he was willing to marry  _if_  only her sister hadn’t refused such a  _ludicrous_  idea. She had often wondered, was it really because she was  _too_  young or did her sister want the man all for herself? Before she thought of it further, she caught herself, berated and told that she wasn’t to think of her sister that way even if it was quite  _sensible_.

She sighed as she walked towards the suspiciously opened balcony, her mind still reeling, her heart still broken over something that should be of  _celebration_. She pressed a hand on the casement as she turned to see who was about the castle at this time of the night. And when her eyes found the tall red head, facing the outside world with his princely posture and without shirt, quiet and seemed to be absorbed in his own little musings, she sighed, her heart already dreary.

“You’ve finally done it, haven’t you?” She asked softly, the pain in the edges of her words, owning her a stare and a raise of one thick auburn brow. “You’ve manipulated my sister. Not only that, you have the kingdom all in your hands. You’re a  _viper_ , Hans.” She accused him, her tone in check lest she would wake the staff, and of course, her sister.

He scoffed at that as he stared at her in disbelief, insulted and wounded. “It’s  _different_ , Anna.” He confessed.

The message was clear, but she chose to pursue albeit it was wounding her further. “What’s different? It’s all the  _same_  to me.” She narrowed her eyes.

He made no movement as he frowned at her. “I  _love_  her, Anna.” He sighed as he looked at their bedroom door.

“That’s what you  _told_  me.” Her eyes were glinting under the moon’s wake, tears threatening to fall as her face reddened with sorrow. “How can  _this_  be any different?” She was almost shouting as she pounded her fist on her thigh,  _desperate_.

“I  _never_  loved you. That’s the difference.” He said with regret. “I  _used_  you, remember?”

She turned her back from him. “At least admit that what we had was  _almost_  real.” She muttered, her voice coarse.

He rubbed his hands over his face in frustration as he leaned on the railing. “I’m sorry,” was the only thing he could say as he walked away from her. “It  _never_  was.” He whispered before leaving her completely.


End file.
